A Call in the Night
by Unique
Summary: An emergency forces everyone to think about what the team and Darien means to them.


This is just something that developed after I got to thinking about some of the medical complications that could arise from the gland. I've revised the plot a little bit since the first posting especially in the epilogue. I don't want to be sued so: These characters are not mine. I'm just playing with them. Enjoy.

The phone was ringing. The sound jarred Bobby Hobbes out of a deep sleep and grumbling he got up to answer the phone. 

"H'lo?" he mumbled. This had better be good. I don't get sleep like that very often. 

"Hobbes," the voice was a whisper, almost a question.

"Fawkes? Is that you? Is this some kind of joke?"

"Bobby…" the voice whimpered. "It hurts."

"Darien! Darien, where are you?" Hobbes finally recognized the voice as his partner and he was frightened by what he heard in his tone. 

"Hurts…" the whisper could barely be heard. As it faded away, Hobbes heard a gasp followed by a slight clatter. 

"Fawkes! Answer me!" Silence was the only answer he received. Rather than continue to shout into his phone, he made a quick decision. Hanging up the phone he punched a random number.

"Hello, this is the Hawkins residence."

"I need to speak to the Official now. And find the Keeper. We have an emergency."

"Listen, I don't know who you think you are but…" Hobbes hung up on the confused individual. Less than a minute later the phone rang.

"This is the Official."

"Something's happened to Darien. I'm going to his place. I think we'll need the Keeper."

"I'll get our men on it. Contact me at Darien's."

Somewhat amazed at the Official's lack of questions and concern, Hobbes rushed out the door. The drive to Darien's place as the longest he'd ever known. A thousand things were running through his head. What had happened to Darien? Would he find him at home? Would he be too late? What did the Official know? More importantly, what was the Official hiding? Finally he reached the apartment building. Jumping out of the car, he ran inside and raced up the stairs not waiting for the elevator. Pausing to pull his gun, Hobbes eased out of the stairwell and slid down the hallway towards Darien's door. It was open. Inching into the apartment, he stayed alert for any intruders who could still be inside. Inside he looked around. The place was trashed but silent. Furniture lay thrown around the room and glass crunched on the floor. 

"Darien? You in here?" His voice seemed overly loud to his ears. There was no reply; not even a rustle of wind in the curtains. Hobbes crept further into the apartment eyes roving for any sight of life. He looked towards where the phone was supposed to be acting on a sudden burst of intuition and saw that it was not there. Upon closer inspection he saw the phone cord trailing through some of the debris. Tracing the cord to a closet door, Bobby stopped and listened again. Nothing. Holding his gun ready, Hobbes threw open the closet door and jumped in front of it. Before he could yell freeze, the words died in his throat and his gun fell to the floor.

"Oh my god, Darien!" he cried instead.

Lying on the floor of the closet was Darien. He was lying in a pool of blood cradled around the phone. Blood streaked his too pale face and caused his hair to clump. Hobbes stood frozen staring at his partner. He had failed. His partner was dead and he had done nothing to protect him. His knees began trembling and he sank to the floor unable to look away from his partner's body. 

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry," he whispered with despair reaching out to touch Darien's hand. The skin was cold and gray. It twitched weakly at his touch. Startled he dropped the hand and watched as it curled as though to make a fist even though it only moved a fraction of an inch. HE'S ALIVE! Tears streamed down his face as Bobby Hobbes realized that he had not lost his partner yet. Grabbing the phone he dialed the Official.

"He's here! We need help. He's hurt bad," his voice cracked and tears still streamed down his face. 

"An ambulance is on its way. The Keeper will be there any minute. When she gets there help her. I will meet you at the hospital," the Official spoke without emotion in his voice but instead of hanging up like usual he stayed on the line to wait with Hobbes. "Bobby, is he bleeding?"

"There's so much blood everywhere." A note of panic crept into his voice.

"Bobby, can you see where he is bleeding?"

"I…I can't tell."

"Do not move him. Wait for the Keeper. Do you hear me?"

"Don't move," repeated Hobbes in a distant voice rubbing his forehead with a bloodied hand. 

"Bobby? Darien?" Claire stuck her head into Darien's apartment. 

"The Keeper's here," Hobbes told the Official not answering Claire. 

"Bobby, can you get up and give her the phone?"

"Yes," replied Hobbes without making any move to get up. He held the phone in a death grip and stared at Darien still lying on the floor. 

"Bobby, get up and take the phone to the Keeper."

"Phone to Keeper," repeated Bobby in a dull monotone. He stood up and stumbled back towards the door holding the phone out for Claire.

"Bobby! Where's Darien?" exclaimed Claire before she noticed the blood on his hands and the out-stretched phone. 

"Phone," stated Bobby holding it out to her. 

"Keeper," she said into the phone worriedly. 

"This is the Official. Hobbes is shook up bad. You'll have to keep an eye on him. Fawkes sounds bad off. If he's dead, don't tell Hobbes. Do what you can. More help is on the way. I'll meet you at the hospital. Out."

"Bobby, can you show me where Darien is? I need to see Darien," she talked to him as if to a child. 

"He can't talk right now. He's hurt," Hobbes sounded confused. "I thought he was dead. I thought I was too late. The Official said don't move him."

"I just want to look. Can you take me to him?" She followed Hobbes as he trudged to the closet woodenly. "Darien!"

Claire quickly bent down beside Darien and checked his ABC's. He was breathing in short shallow gasps and his heartbeat was faint and rapid. A quick check failed to locate where he was bleeding and his blood pressure was only 70/50. She was afraid to move him in case it broke open any wounds and caused the bleeding to increase. Grabbing coats off the racks she covered him to provide some warmth. She only had a short time to wait until the ambulance arrived. They quickly started an IV and got him placed on a stretcher. As Claire had feared the move brought a fresh wave of blood but it allowed them to finally locate the wounds and staunch some of the bleeding. Within minutes they had him in the back of the ambulance with Claire. Hobbes was allowed to ride in the front. As they turned onto the street the hospital was on, Darien's blood pressure began dropping again. The ambulance then pulled into the emergency room entrance. While Darien was rushed into the emergency room, Claire and Hobbes were asked to sit in the waiting room. 

"Bobby, can you sit here and wait for the Official?" asked Claire wrapping a blanket around him. His eyes slowly refocused from staring out into space and moved to meet hers. 

"Yes. Go help Darien." He made an effort to pull himself together despite the fact that he was visibly trembling. He glanced at his watch which read 3:17. No wonder he felt so scattered between the scare he had received and the fact that his medications were at the lowest point of their effectiveness. 

Claire patted him on the shoulder and went in search of Darien. It was vital that she speak with whoever was caring for him before they did anything fatal. It would be much better if they did not have to deal with people who were unaware of the gland and its properties but it simply cost too much money to have specialists on hand in case one man had an emergency. Now she must figure out what she can tell these people to keep them from doing anything that might kill Darien while still protecting the secrecy of the gland. Where had they put him? She had to reach him before they gave him any drugs. Miraculously she spotted Darien before security spotted her. 

"Who's treating this man?" She raised her voice to be heard. 

"I am and you are in my way." A tall dark man brushed past her with a needle. 

"No! You can't give him that!" Claire reached and jerked the man's hand as he bent to inject Darien. 

"Who do you think you are? Security!" The man glared at her furiously. "Get this woman out of here!"

"I'm his doctor and you'd better listen to me before you do something that kills him. What have you given him so far?"

"Just a saline drip. He needs blood though and this," stated the man holding up the needle again.

"No, you can't. He's on an experimental drug for a blood condition. Any drugs that enter his blood stream could interact with the chemicals already in his blood with devastating consequences. Unless he will die without this drug then the risks are too great."

"Are there any drugs we can give him? What about pain killers?"

"I've given him Demerol before without any side effects so any merperidine should be safe. Aspirin would be fine but I don't think he needs the blood thinner right now. Stay away from Tylenol. He's allergic to acetaminophen."

"And the blood? He's lost over a third of his normal blood volume. It is vital we replace it."

"Under no circumstances are you to give this man blood. It would certainly kill him. Due to the chemicals in his blood stream, his body has built up certain antibodies that would certainly attack any foreign blood that entered his blood stream. There is also a high likely hood that the white blood cells in this other blood will attack the drug and the cells that interact with the drugs. His blood is different. It would be the equivalent of giving a type O person AB blood. Do you understand?"

"Yes, we would not want to kill the man we are trying to save. What is this drug? I need to have a better idea of what I'm working with."

"I'm sorry, Doctor. I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to say. One more thing: there can be no tests run on his blood."

"But…" The man looked like he wanted to argue.

"You still have my patient to see to. I'll get out of your way." Claire backed into a corner to watch them work on Darien. The entire conversation with the doctor had taken just minutes but they had been minutes she had not wanted them to waste while Darien lay on the table dying. Electrodes stuck to his chest relayed his vital signs onto a screen. His heartbeat was weak and irregular. The shot had probably contained adrenaline to combat the arrhythmia. If it was strong enough it would have set off the gland and all hell would have broken lose. He was no longer breathing on his own. She had barely stepped into the corner when they finished getting Darien prepped and on his way up to surgery. The doctor went up to make sure that the surgeon and nurses understood the situation. Claire made her way back to the waiting room where she saw Eberts and Borden waiting with Hobbes. They had cups of that tasty coffee that can only be found in waiting rooms and rest stops. As she walked closer all three looked up at her with expectant faces. 

"He's in surgery. The doctor will come down and talk to us in a minute. I don't know much more than that." 

"I handled the paperwork," stated the Official nodding to a chair.

Claire rubbed her tired face and sat down on the cold hard seat beside Hobbes. She looked over at the others where they were waiting silently. Eberts was flipping through a magazine. Better Homes and Gardens from the look of it. Not quite what she would have expected.Bobby was frowning at the floor; his eyes darting around the room every few minutes to check out the other occupants. Borden was watching her. Odd. He looked almost calm except for a tightness around his eyes that betrayed his concern.She looked up at the entrance to see the doctor from the emergency room entering. She stood to meet him. 

"Doctor," he greeted reaching out to shake her hand. "I'm Dr. Lee. Your patient is in surgery at this moment. You can move to the waiting room there if you'd like. It's on the third floor just to the right of the elevator."

"Can you tell us how he is?"

"The surgeon is a better one to ask. He will know the definites." The doctor looked at her with a serious face. 

"Will he survive the surgery?" Claire was desperate for some information. 

"It depends on how much more blood he loses in the operating room. He doesn't have much more to lose. If he makes it through surgery, his likely hood for survival is much greater. I really can not tell you more than that."

"Thank you," Claire shook the doctor's hand again and turned to her companions. "He said we should be moved up to the third floor.That's where Darien is. He's still in surgery. They don't know if he will make it."

"It's my fault," said Hobbes in a strained voice. He looked up at Claire, the pain evident in his face. 

"No. There was nothing you could have done," said Claire gently.

"I should have gotten there sooner." Hobbes was not going to let go of his guilt.

"Enough. Where ever the blame lies it's not on you," stated the Official in a matter of fact voice that cut off any arguments. "We are going to go sit in that waiting room and be here for Darien. We are not going to sit around wallowing in guilt. It will not do him or you any good.I have my men going over the apartment. I also have an investigation going on back at the base to find out why no one picked up Darien's phone call to you as well as why the surveillance on Darien has suddenly disappeared. When we have those answers, we will know whom to blame for this. I do know that the blame will not fall on you, Mr. Hobbes."

"He's my partner." Hobbes looked the Official in the eye.

"That's why you are going to be here for him." The Official softened his stance and became just a man again. A man concerned for the people under his command. As a group the four of them made their way up to the third floor waiting room. Claire found a nurse and asked if they could have something to wash up with. Darien's blood was still on her hands and clothes as well as on Hobbes. After cleaning up as best she could she returned to the waiting room. Too bad there was nothing they could do about their clothes. Sitting down in a chair that was only slightly less hard than the first chair, she tried to make herself comfortable. 

Hobbes settled himself in a corner chair. Despite the Official's statements to the contrary, Bobby knew that he should have been able to do something to protect his partner. That was what partners did. They looked out for each other. But he'd lost his cool.Maybe if he had not panicked he would have been able to do something to help Darien. He was normally calm under pressure. Why had he screwed up this time? He rubbed his face and looked around the room. Claire had fallen asleep. Eberts was reading another magazine and the Official was working on yet another cup of coffee. He was glad that they were there. Waiting was hell but it would be much worse if he had had to do the waiting alone. It occurred to him that Darien would probably be surprised that they were there at all. His partner had a hard time believing he was not just an experiment to everyone. Too bad he was the only one who had not yet realized that he had moved beyond being just a reluctant pawn to being a working member of the team. Hobbes closed his eyes for a second. He thought of all the things Fawkes and he had been through together. 

"Bobby, wake up," said the Official shaking his shoulder. Hobbes realized with a start that he must have dozed off. He glanced over at Claire and saw her rubbing sleep from her eyes. When he looked back at the Official he noticed another man standing beside him. He must be the surgeon that worked on Darien. 

"Hi, my name is Dr. Azwolens. I operated on your friend." 

"How is he?" demanded Hobbes.

"He's as well as can be expected. He had multiple stab wounds to the upper torso as well as one in his right thigh. None of them did serious damage to any major organs or he would be dead right now. He's lost a lot of blood and we can't do anything about it because of his condition. We're a little worried that he's not coming out of the anesthesia. We'll have to wait until he stabilizes before we can do any tests," informed the doctor.

"Will he live?" asked Claire.

"If he makes it through the next 24 hours without any turns for the worse then he should make a full recovery."

"Can we see him?" Surprisingly it was the Official who asked the question first.

"Well, he's been moved to the intensive care unit. Only family members are supposed to visit but I will make an exception for you.Each of you will be allowed a five-minute visit. It is after visiting hours. Tomorrow you can take turns. When you go in you will see a lot of wires and machines.Darien is on a ventilator to assist with his breathing. He is also attached to several monitors. I just want you to be prepared for what you will see."

"Doc, I'm his partner. Can't I stay with him longer? He needs me," pleaded Hobbes. 

"Tell you what. Go ahead and visit him for the five minutes and I'll talk to the nurses. They may let you in again a little later." The doctor left the room. The others looked at each other.

"Who's going to be first?" asked Claire finally. 

"I'll go." The Official brushed off his pant legs and headed down the hall. Darien was in a semi-private room to the right of the nurses' station. The Official sat down in the chair beside the bed. He sat looking at Darien for a minute then sighed. "I sure hope you can pull yourself out of this mess you've gotten into, boy. We can't afford to lose you. I wouldn't want to lose you. You've got to hang on; fight. You'll beat this. You're too stubborn to quit."

The Official sat holding Darien's hand maintaining a running monologue that served as a pep talk until one of the nurses came to tell him his time was up. He never liked seeing one of his people hurt. It happened. It was part of the business that people were going to get hurt. His people. But he did not like it. The Official did his best to protect his men even knowing that he was fighting an impossible battle. It was worse this way. Darien had been at home. He should have been safe. He did not like sending Darien out on missions. The others had chosen their profession knowing the risks. Darien had been cornered into it. He did not like having to manipulate him. Use him. But he would do what he had to. He would get the job done no matter how many people he had to use. Even Darien. But now Darien was hurt and there was no reason for it. Darien should have been safe. His men had failed to protect Darien. HE had failed. It was with dark thoughts that the Official returned to the waiting room. 

Back in the waiting room, Claire was talking to Dr. Azwolens. Hobbes was pacing the room. Eberts set aside his magazine and stood to leave. It surprised Charlie that Hobbes was not jumping up to see Darien. Eberts walked down the hall to the intensive care unit in his quiet unobtrusive way. He was taken aback by Darien's appearance but steeled himself and sat down.

"I bet you would be surprised to see me here," started Eberts softly. "I know we've never been friends. But we're a team. You, me, Hobbes, the Keeper, and the Official. It's not like that with the other men. They just come and take their orders but not you and Hobbes. You may not like us but we're all in this together and we need each other. The other men are replaceable. You aren't. Don't let go. Fight."

Eberts stood and made his way back to the waiting room where he announced that he was heading to the office to help find who was responsible for this. Claire was the next to see Darien. She knew better than the other's what she would find and was in no hurry but she respected Hobbes's wish to be the last. She suspected that he hoped he would be able to persuade the nurses to allow him to remain. Claire was saddened by Darien's appearance in the hospital bed. With tears in her eyes, she sat down beside him and held his hand.

"Oh, Darien," she said choking back tears. "It shouldn't be like this. You don't deserve it. I'm sorry I don't have anything to help you with. I've never thought…. never considered that something like this might happen and I should have. This is going to have to be up to you, Darien. Medicine doesn't have any miracles for you. Please don't die. Fight for your life, Darien. Don't give up. I need you. You're my friend and I need you. I don't know if I could take it if you died. Not like this. Oh, God, please don't die." Wiping at the tears that glistened on her cheeks, she sat holding Darien's hand until the nurses came to say her time was up.Slowly she got up and made her way back to the waiting room. Hobbes had stopped his pacing and was now watching the clock. The Official was talking on the phone to someone back at the office. She walked over and patted Hobbes on the shoulder before settling back down into one of the chairs. Hobbes watched her for a few moments and left the room.

Walking down the hall, Hobbes struggled to keep himself calm. He stopped at the nurses' station and politely asked for directions to Darien's room. Entering the room he froze for a moment stunned at the sight. Darien lay still in the center of the hospital bed looking small and helpless. Like the doctor had warned, there seemed to be tubes and wires every where. Monitors beeped out of sync. Darien's chest rose and fell in time with the ventilator. Darien's eyes were closed and circled with dark rings like he had been hit or gone days without sleeping. His skin was pale, almost gray. He looked dead, even deader than he had looked back at his apartment. The only sign that he was alive was the jagged motion of his heartbeat as it scrolled across one of the monitors. Hobbes moved to the side of the bed and perched on the edge of the chair. Like the others he took Darien's hand. It was cool and stiff when he picked it up but it relaxed in his grip. He leaned forward and brushed back Darien's hair.

"Hey, buddy, it's me, Hobbes," he whispered. "I know I should have come in sooner but I figured I would let the others have their chances so they could leave if they wanted to. I bet you were shocked that Eberts came. Did you know he reads Better Homes and Gardens? I really screwed up this time. I should have helped you more but I froze. I can't get it out of my head that when it mattered the most I froze. Some partner I am. I can save strangers and associates but I can't stay calm long enough to help my best friend. Vivian was my best friend and when she left me I lost everything. I promised myself that I wouldn't let anyone close. Not as a friend. Not as a lover. Somewhere along the line I broke that promise. I let you in. You're my friend, Darien, and more than that. You're my partner. You're my family. I would gladly take your place on that hospital bed. I'd trust you with my life and give up mine to keep you safe but it wasn't enough or you wouldn't be lying here right now. You're going to come through this, Darien. Do you here me? You are not going to die. I'm not going to let you. You fight this thing and I'll be right here with you. They may not let me stay in the room with you but I'm not going to leave you. I'll be here. And you're going to fight. And you are going to live. You are not going to die!" Bobby Hobbes broke down in tears.

"Sir?" Hobbes turned around to glare at the nurse who had interrupted him.

"I'm not leaving," he growled. 

"Sir, you've been in here for 15 minutes. I have to adjust the equipment."

"Please, let me stay," he begged. She looked him up and down and sighed.

"Look, let me do my job. Wait outside and I will let you back in when I am done." 

She ushered him outside of the little room and shut the door. He paced as he waited hoping that she would not change her mind about letting him back in to Darien. Bobby Hobbes was not about to leave his partner alone when he needed him the most. Soon the nurse opened the door again and gestured for him to come back inside. 

"You are lucky that I feel visitors help the patients. Some of the other nurses adhere strictly to the visitation policy. I will let you stay until my duty is over at 10 am. If you would like I could bring you a pillow and a blanket."

"Yes, please. And thanks for letting me stay."

"I'll be right back," she said and left the room. Moments later she returned with the pillow and blanket. Handing them to him, she paused and smiled. "Listen. Do you hear that? See how it's different from the smooth controlled breaths when the machine is in control. Your friend is breathing on his own some. And look his heartbeat is stronger. Your friend is putting up a fight."

"Thanks. Thanks a lot," said Hobbes grinning for the first time since his phone rang. Adjusting the pillow and blanket, he settled down to wait out the night with a lighter heart and more hope. He took Darien's hand and it felt warmer. "You can do it," he encouraged him. Talking to Darien throughout the night, Hobbes dozed off around dawn. The nurse came in just before her shift ended to wake him and send him back to the waiting room. 

"Good morning," she said smiling as she shook him. "Your friend has improved over the night. About 75% of the breaths are his own and his blood pressure has risen. I think he'll make it."

"I hope so," he yawned smiling back up at her. "Thank you for letting me stay with him."

"It was the least I could do. Now get out of here before you get me in trouble."

"Yes, ma'am." Hobbes grinned and bowed to her. He returned to the waiting room in high spirits. The Official had returned to the office but Claire was still there drinking a cup of coffee. She looked tired. He walked over to her and sat down. She smiled when she looked up.

"Good morning, Bobby. I take it Darien is better this morning."

"The nurse thinks he's going to make it. She said that he is doing three fourths of his breathing on his own. That's good isn't it?" Hobbes sought her confirmation. 

"Yes, that's very good news. Has he woken up yet?"

"No, he hasn't even moved. It will be visiting hours soon and we will be able to go back in and see him. Have you eaten?" Hobbes had suddenly realized that he was starving.

"No. You?"

"Would you like to find the cafeteria?" 

"Sure. This coffee has gotten old." Together the two made their way downstairs. They had a pleasant conversation over cold eggs and stale donuts.There was rarely any time for them to exchange pleasantries in the lab. Claire knew that Hobbes had some interest in her but she was not sure how she felt about him. She had been surprised over how upset she had been when she thought Bobby was dead. She had also been surprised at how upset she had been at the possibility of Darien dying. She had tried to tell herself that she was simply maintaining a professional relationship but she was just was just fooling herself. She had become deeply attached to the pair.Darien was not just her patient. He was also her friend and so was Bobby. The realization made her happy and she smiled across the table at her friend. He smiled back thinking that it was nice to spend this time with her. They should do it again under better circumstances. He glanced at his clock and saw that they could get in to see Darien now. 

"Claire, we need to be heading back up. They'll let us in now." The two went back to the third floor. The Official was there waiting for them. 

"Keeper, Hobbes," he said nodding at them. "The doctor came to speak with you earlier. He will be back. I've already been in to see Darien. I've been waiting for you. I have some information about the case."

"Do you know who did this to him?" demanded Hobbes in a deadly voice. 

"Not yet. It was not a burglary like the cops have assumed. We aren't sure if they were looking for something or if they were after Darien. Hopefully he will be able to tell us when he wakes up.The conversation between you and Darien wasn't picked up because the men in charge of monitoring the lines had decided to take a cigarette break. They have been dealt with. Darien's coverage team was found this morning along with building security. They had been drugged. It seems they had gotten lax on their security. Anyone watching Darien for a few days would have picked up on them and known to take them out first. Changes will be made. They will regret that they let this happen." The Official's face was hard. 

"We will get whoever did this." Hobbes was even more determined than the Official. "I'm going in to see him now. Are you coming, Claire?"

"Yes," she said turning to the Official. "Did you bring me what I asked?"

Dropping the counteragent into her pocket, she joined Hobbes. Darien was noticeably better. His color was no longer gray and his vital signs had improved. She was relieved to see that Bobby's optimism was well founded. She realized how unusual it was to mention Hobbes and optimism in the same thought. She picked up Darien's chart and flipped through it. They had obeyed her instructions. His heart rate was normal. Had been for several hours. He was increasingly breathing on his own. The notes said that they were looking to have him off the ventilator by tomorrow. Excellent. Even his blood pressure was edging back up into acceptable measures. It looked as though Darien was on the mend.She turned his wrist over and looked at the snake. It was almost completely red. She pulled the syringe from her pocket and looking around to make sure no one could see gave him an injection. Within seconds all sections were green. Now she did not have to worry about him going mad while he was in the hospital. They stood watching him for a while before she decided it was time to give Hobbes some time alone with Darien. 

"Keep fighting," she whispered as she bent down and kissed him on the forehead. "Bobby, I'm going to head back to the lab. I'll be back later. Call me if he wakes up or gets worse."

"Sure thing." Hobbes watched her go. "Looks like it's just you and me again buddy. You're looking better today. I was getting worried. You shouldn't scare your partner like that you know. You'd better think about waking up soon. It gets kind of boring talking to someone who is just lying there, you know. Not that you are much better company when you are awake." Hobbes took Darien's hand and it closed around his hand. Hobbes stared at it and Darien squeezed his hand. 

"Nurse! Nurse!" shouted Hobbes gleefully. "He moved! He squeezed my hand!" 

The nurse came in and checked Darien's vitals and peered into his eyes. "Can you get him to do it again?" she asked finally. 

"Darien, squeeze my hand. Come on, buddy." Hobbes's pleading was rewarded by another squeeze of his hand. "See. Did you see him?"

"It looks like your friend might be beginning to come around. Don't expect him to be awake and alert any time soon though. Even if this isn't a false alert, it is still a long process."

"But he's going to be all right, isn't he?" Hobbes was worried and suspicious at her lack of enthusiasm. He wished the nurse from last night would return. She was nicer and better looking too. 

"You're friend's a fighter," she said patting Darien on the leg as she exited the little room. 

Hobbes stayed by Darien's side until they ran him out again. The next few days passed in a tired hazy fog. On the third day after Darien was admitted to the hospital, he was removed from the ventilator and relocated to a private room on the fourth floor. From that point on Hobbes barely left Darien's side since the strict ICU visitors' policy no longer applied. He continued to breakfast with Claire who was a frequent visitor herself. The Official had too much pressing business back at the Agency to be spending much time at the hospital but he always seemed to have a moment or two to spare whenever Bobby and Claire were unable to sit with Darien. Darien continued to show signs that he was beginning to wake up and if he had woken up he would have been guaranteed to see one of their three faces. Finally a week after Bobby Hobbes was awakened by Darien's phone call, Darien returned to the world of the living. Hobbes was the only person in the room at the time. He had been flipping through a magazine Claire had brought up for him when he felt someone's eyes on him. Looking over at Darien he saw that his eyes were open and watching him. 

"Well, looky here. Sleeping Beauty finally decided to wake up." 

"Wh-where am I?" croaked Fawkes with a confused look on his face.

"You're in the hospital," said Hobbes trying to keep his voice light as he depressed the tab to call the nurse. 

"What am I doing here?"

"You were stabbed in your apartment. You've been unconscious for a week. We thought we'd lost you, partner. You gave me a hell of a scare." Hobbes voice trembled slightly as he tried to make light of the situation. 

"Aw, Mr. Fawkes, I see you are awake. Glad to have you back," stated the nurse as she entered and checked Darien over."You have a very dedicated partner here, Mr. Fawkes."

Hobbes was on the phone calling the Official and Claire or he would have been embarrassed by the nurse's remark. He hung up the phone to find his partner watching him again. He had an unreadable expression on his face. 

"What?! Why are you staring at me like that? Do I have mustard on my face or something?"

"Thanks," said Darien quietly. 

"What for?"

"For being here for me. I don't know where I was. It was so far away and it would have been so easy to just give up," stated Darien somewhat dreamily staring off into space. His eyes refocused and met Bobby's. "I couldn't give up though. I knew you were there fighting with me. I wasn't alone."

"Darien," started Hobbes seriously. "You are my partner and my friend. I would trust you with my life. There was no way in hell I was going to turn my back on you. We are here for each other. That's what partners do."

"I just wanted you to know it meant a lot to me." Darien was interrupted by a yawn. He was soon sleeping like a baby and when he woke up again about an hour later the Official and Claire were there.

"Hey, Darien, it's good to see you awake again," greeted Claire. 

"Glad to have you back, Fawkes," added the Official. 

"Thanks. Where's Bobby?"

"He went home to take a shower and take a nap. He's barely left your side all week and now that you've woken up he felt it was safe to take a break," answered Claire. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been run over by a semi. And weak as a kitten."

"That's to be expected. You will be weak until your body can replace some of the blood it lost."

"Listen, Darien, do you remember anything that happened?" questioned the Official eager to catch the perpetrator. 

"I had woken up hungry so I was in the kitchen making me a sandwich," whispered Darien beginning to sweat. "I heard glass break in the living room. I couldn't go invisible because I was due for a shot so I tried to creep in for a look. They were throwing things around making a mess of the place. I felt a stab of white hot pain in my side and I looked down and my hands were covered in blood and it was soaking into my clothes. They had had a man come in through the door while I was distracted. He stabbed me again and again. I lost count how many times. I couldn't cry out any more. I just lay there. I think they thought I was dead. When I realized they were gone my first thought was to hide in case they came back. It took me a while to get to my feet. When I did I stumbled to the phone. I was too terrified to call for help first so I took the phone with me and hid in the closet. I knew I had called Bobby earlier so I hit re-dial. I don't remember anymore after that." Darien was shaking and his heart rate was elevated prompting a visit from the nurse. She threatened to kick them out if they disturbed Darien again but a look from the Official soon had her on her way. 

"Do you know who did this?" asked the Official gently as Claire tried to keep him calm. 

"They said I had to pay for betraying their boss. For what Liz and I did."

"Constagnacci" stated the Official. Darien nodded. "We'll stop him. We'll shut him down."

"Good," stated Darien beginning to relax again. The Official left soon after but Claire stayed behind.

"You know, Darien, we were really very worried about you," she said.

"I'll bet. Terrified your multi-million dollar failure would die here where you couldn't get at the gland, I'm sure."

"Darien, stop it! You are more than just the gland to us. I was worried sick and the Official has been tearing the Agency apart trying to find who's to blame for hurting you. Not to mention Bobby who's barely left your side for more than ten minutes. Even Eberts has been up here sitting by your side. You may not want to admit it but we care about you."

"I'm sorry, Claire. I didn't mean it like that."

"Yes, well." She seemed at loss for words and settled for turning her attention to the television. Several minutes later she started again. "You aren't just a patient to me, Darien. You are more than that. I consider you a friend." She looked over at him to see his reaction to her revelation only to find him fast asleep. Men!

EPILOGUE:

"I bet you are glad to be getting out of this place," stated Hobbes as he stuffed the last of Darien's things into the bag. 

"This past week has been pure hell. I never thought I'd say this but I can't wait to get back to work." Darien grinned at his partner and finished tying his shoe. 

"I bet you won't be saying that in a few days. You are stuck with paper work until the Keeper decides you are ready for cases again. You'll be begging for me to stab you so you can go back to lying in bed all day." Hobbes picked up Darien's bag as the nurse came with the wheelchair. 

"I can walk!" protested Darien. 

"Hospital policy," grunted the nurse used to Darien's whining. He pushed Darien to the exit where the van was waiting for them. Darien demanded that they stop for burgers on the way home. He was starving for some real food after all the hospital mush. Over lunch they discussed his case. 

"Turns out Constagnacci had contacts among the prison guards who were relaying his commands to the outside. We shut off his channels though so he shouldn't be a problem anymore," stated Bobby munching on some fries. 

"How did you do that?" asked Fawkes curious. 

"He'd gotten cocky. We slipped a guy into the prison to keep an eye on him and found him making deals out in the open with some of the guards. Most of the guards had been in on it either being paid to relay messages or being paid to keep their mouths shut about what was going on in there. There's a big investigation going on over there now. They'll end up making a lot of staff changes but then so are we. The Official was furious over the laxity in our security systems. I know you hate being spied on but they're there more for your safety than keeping an eye on you. All of us have men watching our homes."

"Yeah, well, it didn't help much this time did it?"

"That's why most of them were kicked out on the street or the security efficient equivalent anyway."

"So how did you cut off Constagnacci's channels? I mean he'll just pay off more guards won't he?" 

"Fawkes, come on. Give your partner more credit than that. Bobby Hobbes does not leave lose ends."

"So how did you do it?" he asked. 

"There's this prison in the mid-west that's normally used for criminals that can compromise national security.The Official pulled some strings to get Castagnacci transferred there. He doesn't even know where they are at. No one there does. All of the inmates are brought in after being sedated for at least a week so that they could literally be anywhere. They don't have contact with each other either so there won't be in mad plans and alliances made between them. The guards go into the situation knowing they will live and sleep at the compound. No one goes in and no one goes out. They don't even have windows in the place. Real nice set up. Kind of place we need to stick Arnaud when we catch him. Even the transportation to the prison is secret. None of the pilots and drivers know where they are going or who they are transporting and they are never used more than once. I'm telling you Castagnacci is not getting any messages out of there. No my friend, you are safe from him."

"What about when he gets out?"

"He may have been a mobster but he wasn't a member of the family. His little group will break down or have their leadership transferred to someone else. They'll be completely gone before the end of the year and none of them are going to care enough to come after you in revenge with out his orders which they won't be getting. He's nothing without his goons. When he finally does get out he won't have anything to rebuild from. Trust me. Castagnacci is finished."

"So we can go back to worrying about everyone else who is after my head or the gland in it?" asked Darien with a small smirk.

"Yep, looks that way, partner," answered Bobby as they stood and threw away their trash.

"Well, I'm glad it's all over."

"Me too, man, me too." 


End file.
